It Just Won't Quit
by MoonFire1
Summary: Is it a blessing, or is it a curse? Just where is the line between reality and fantasy blurred?


IT JUST WON'T QUIT.

Authors: MoonFire, Quoth the Raven

Pairings: Hermione/Harry, Harry/Ron/Draco (implied)

Warnings: mind control, violence, angst, VeryEvil!Hermione.

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Everything from the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, and we haven't been able to talk her into giving them to us yet. Something about a seven-book contract. Y'know, legal stuff.

__

"And I never really sleep anymore

And I always get those dangerous dreams

And I never get a minute of peace

And I've got to wonder what it means,

Oh, I've got to wonder what it means.

Maybe it's nothing, and I'm under the weather,

Maybe it's just one of those bugs going round,

Maybe I'm under a spell and it's magic,

Maybe there's a witch doctor with an office in town

Is this a blessing? Or is it a curse?

Does it get any better? Can it get any worse?

Will it go on forever? Is it over tonight?

Does it come with the darkness? Does it bring out the light?

Is it richer than diamonds, or just a little cheaper than spit?

I don't know what it is, but it just won't quit

I don't know what it is, but it just won't quit

I don't know what it is, but it just won't quit

I don't know what it is, but it just won't quit

And there used to be such an easy way of living

And there used to be every hope in the world

And I used to get everything that I was after

But there never used to be this girl,

No, there never used to be this girl.

Maybe I'm crazy and I'm losing my senses

Maybe I'm possessed by a spirit or such

Maybe I'm desperate and I've got no defences

Can you get me a prescription for that one perfect touch?

Is this a blessing? Or is it a curse?

Does it get any better? Can it get any worse?

Will it go on forever? Is it over tonight?

Does it come with the darkness? Does it bring out the light?

Is it richer than diamonds, or just a little cheaper than spit?

I don't know what it is, but it just won't quit

I don't know what it is, but it just won't quit

I don't know what it is, but it just won't quit

I don't know what it is, but it just won't quit..." ~ MeatLoaf, 'It Just Won't Quit'

************************************************************

The room was dim, an abandoned room forgotten by all but the faithful Marauder's Map. Corners were cobwebbed; a board hanging unused and useless on the wall, covered in decades-old chalk dust; a puddle of shimmering liquid patching across the floor, near an abandoned book-bag. 

But all was not as it seemed. Despite the outer neglect, the centre of the room was meticulously clean; old school desks Transfigured months ago to a large, luxurious bed and other furniture; and the book-bag was not abandoned. And the room was not empty.

Harry Potter gazed up at his captor with blank, glazed emerald eyes, even as full lips parted, a soft tongue running hungrily across them in a silent request.

A smirk. "Oh, yes. I think you know what I want by now. Aren't you a good pet? You can have what you want. Come and get it." But before assuming the familiar position - sitting back on the bed, legs spread wide for optimal access - his Owner carefully rummaged in discarded robes before casually lifting a vial and uncorking it, filling the room with the potion's soft stench. It was hastily shoved under Harry's nose. "But first, drink your penance. Then you can have your reward."

A whimper escaped Harry's mouth - he couldn't remember doing anything that deserved penance, he didn't want penance! He just wanted to taste! But he was told to drink his penance, and so it had to be...

"Come, now... I only ever want what's best for you, dear pet..." Coaxing and commanding both, his Owner tipped the contents of the phial down his throat, and sat back and watched with a faintly amused _expression as he coughed, the familiar wave of penance's heat surging through him...

"That's enough. Good boy. _Such_ a good boy. Now come here... what is it you want?"

"To taste you," Harry breathed, his _expression rapt and worshipful, his eyes almost opaque with mindless desire. 

A low groan was his answer, and legs spread wide were his reward. Eagerly, he dived forward to taste the sweet flesh, the creamy flow... oh, he could never get enough of it. A fingertip traced idly over his shoulder blades. "And who is it who owns you?"

He pulled back just long enough to gasp out a reply before leaning back in. "You! Only you!"

"Yesss. Me. Not that revolting Weasley, you understand? ME. Only _I_ can give you this."

"_Yes_," Harry moaned feverishly. With his nose buried in short curls, the affirmation was muffled by sensitive flesh and a corresponding groan came from above him. Then two neatly groomed hands roughly grabbed handfuls of dark, messy hair, pulling him in harder as pale hips pumped in a greedy rhythm. "More tongue... harder... work harder, you slut... MY slut, MY pet, MINE..." 

It wasn't long before Harry was eagerly licking up every last trace of his Owner's climax, his own weeping arousal neglected and unfulfilled. Pushing him away, his Owner looked upon him and waved a dismissive hand in his direction. "Take care of yourself. I want to watch. And make sure I enjoy watching."

Mute with gratitude, Harry could only nod as knelt adoringly at his Owner's feet and took his erection in hand, beginning to pump and squeeze it needily, desperately. Gasping, he threw his head back just the way he knew was expected as the last few strokes took him over the edge, and he cried out as his chest and chin were spattered with the proof of his Owner's kindness to him. 

Feeling a hand swipe across his still-heaving chest, he opened his eyes to see his Owner cautiously licking at a fingertip, then flinched as he was backhanded to the floor, hearing the sound of disgusted spitting and sputtering. "You taste revolting! Didn't you stop eating sugar as I told you? Didn't you even _wash_?!"

"Yes, I did. I did, I swear..." he whispered, devastated at the thought that he'd failed to live up to the standard set for him.

"Hmph. Maybe I should just make you stop eating so much red meat then. You eat it almost every day; it's positively repulsive."

Harry trembled. "A-as you wish..." {Don't leave me, don't give up on me, don't throw me away...}

"There, there." A hand oozing patronising kindness stroked his head. "We all make mistakes, pet... come now, it's time to go back. Get yourself dressed." Grateful beyond speech for the forgiveness, Harry dressed quickly and efficiently, using cleaning spells where necessary, and stepped to the puddle on the ground. He picked it up and wrapped it over his arm, which instantly disappeared from view. His Owner already stood in the corridor, waiting for him to vacate the room. As soon as he had, a very strong and obscure locking charm was placed on the door. 

"Time to wake up, pet..." He blinked as a fingertip tapped him sharply on the nose. He shook his head, feeling a little dizzy, and a familiar face swam into view. 

"Oh, hi there, Hermione."

*******************************************************************

"Harry?" Now Ron was worried. It had taken four tries to get him to respond to the sound of his own name, much less get him to look at him. 

The house-elves had outdone themselves that night and had provided a feast containing everything anyone could ever want. Steaks, pork and lamb chops, shepherd's pie, sausage…and those were just the main entrees. So many of them were Harry's favourites. He could never resist inhaling them whenever they were served.

Harry wasn't eating them.

Now, many accused Ron of being thickheaded, stubborn, and possessing a fiery temper. He took the insults proudly, knowing that despite it all, he was a good friend. Good friends know when other friends are not acting as they normally would.

And Harry wasn't.

He jumped at the slightest sound, flinched away from everyone's touch. Well, everyone but Hermione. Normally that would not have bothered Ron, but in the past whenever others were shut out, both he and Hermione were let in.

Ron never liked being excluded, especially from his dearest friend. Friend. Oh how he wished it was something more...

__

Right, Ron. Mooning over him will certainly make him eat.

Remember, pet, only I can let you taste this. Not that vile Weasley. Remember... Harry blindly ate his way through salad and macaroni, ignoring the others sitting next to him. He was there. Do not look at him, do not speak to him...

But I can't let him think something is wrong. He'll want to help, he thought, mentally curling his voice around the words. No one can help me, not the way she can...

Even in his own mind, they tasted of bitter horseradish. Ron would be homey, comforting, like shepherd's pie. Forbidden. He needed no home. Not when he had her.

"Ron," there, he managed the name as he always would - why was his voice shaking - "would you pass the potatoes?"

He shivered, feeling an icy gaze on his neck. I will pay. I know I will pay. I deserve it. 

*******************************************************************

What could be bothering him now? Draco no longer allowed himself to wonder why he cared. He had always cared. The one emotion his father could not beat out of him, at least for that particular person.

Potter looked awful. Pale, obviously not speaking to his friends, well, to Weasley anyway. Weasley looks confused. This is not the result of a fight, then. He knew very well what their fights looked like. Everyone did.

Granger was the only one who seemed unconcerned. That was quite odd. If something had been bothering Har—Potter, she would have known and been trying to get him to speak of it.

Draco frowned. Potter had turned to speak to Weasley—and Granger glared at him. If she were angry with Weasley, why would she be attempting to keep Potter from him? They always keep their individual spats separate.

But separate them she clearly was attempting to do by the looks of things. One furiously whispered conversation later, she got up and flounced out of the Great Hall. Several minutes later, Harry got up—to follow?

Draco smiled slightly, seeing Weasley get up after him. Perhaps he isn't as imbecilic as he would have us believe...

*******************************************************************

"Harry! Mate, wait up!"

Ron knew that Harry had heard him, but the shorter boy paid him no heed as he hurried through the corridors. Pressing his lips together suddenly, Ron put on a burst of speed and grabbed at Harry's arm, catching him by the elbow and spinning him around. 

"Dammit, Harry-"

And then Harry finished turning towards him, and the rest of the sentence died in his throat. For a split second, before Harry had controlled his face, there had been utter terror radiating from his widened eyes. Shocked, the redhead let go, and Harry stepped back hastily. 

"W-what do you want, Ron?" He asked, voice shaking. _Stop it! You sound like a baby! Worthless! Useless! Nothing without-_

"What do I want?" Ron breathed in disbelief. "Blimey, Harry - I want to know what the hell is wrong with you! You've been acting strangely for two weeks now; you're walking around like a zombie. Neville's potion spilled and burned your hand, and you barely even NOTICED!" Seeing Harry's body tremble slightly as he resolutely looked away, Ron pressed his case forward. "And that's not all. You keep cutting this food or that food out of your diet - first it was sugar, then it was anything salty or spicy, and now it's meat. Blimey, Harry, you need nourishment, not carrot sticks! You won't talk to me, won't _look_ at me-"

"Stop!"

"Not until you tell me why, Harry!" Ron grabbed his arm again.

Harry's face twisted. _His hand so warm and firm so worried so kind - no, it's wrong, I mustn't be unfaithful to... to... why can't I remember properly? What's wrong with me? Why is talking to Ron wrong?_ He opened his mouth, and nearly passed out as a wave of disapproval, despair and fear washed over him; the punishment for his traitorous thinking. "I can't," he whispered hoarsely, "I can't..."

"Now what are you two plotting?" Two heads jerked up to see an irritated-looking Hermione in the passageway, and with a despairing cry Harry jerked his arm from Ron's grip and ran off as fast as his legs could carry him, disappearing down the corridor. 

"Harry!" Ron called out, but his effort to pursue was blocked by Hermione. "Hermione, get out of the way! He's-"

"Ron, you _idiot_!" Hermione moaned in exasperation that she didn't have to feign in the least. "Now look what you've done!"

"What?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Ron. Of course you want to help Harry if he is acting strangely. But you've gone about it entirely the wrong way! You KNOW how much he hates confrontations about anything he sees as a weakness in himself! I've been spending ages with him, dancing around the issue, trying to coax it out of him gradually - and now you've gone and completely blown it! You've really messed things up again - as usual," she added spitefully. _Well, this is going to take a lot of damage control to repair and regroup, which means more effort on my part, as if this wasn't hard enough. He can suffer some guilt, thank you very much._

Ron went pale. "I... I didn't know that-"

"Of course you didn't," Hermione responded, in a disgusted tone that indicated that she'd be surprised if Ron actually knew anything at all. A tone more usually heard from Snape, directed towards Neville Longbottom. "I'm going to find Harry, see if I can repair some of the damage that you've done." And with that, she stomped off, head held high. _Damn that Weasley! I saw how Harry disobeyed the programming - I haven't stomped it out of him yet... stupid, stupid, DICKLESS little prat!_ She thought viciously.

None of the Gryffindor Trio had noticed the steely eyes that watched the two exchanges with interest, and a growing concern. 

*******************************************************************

Draco briefly debated whether or not to go talk to Weasley. In all honestly, he'd almost rather be paying service to his father's former Master, but this was a strange situation. Hermione had mistakenly revealed something to him.

__

She knows. She knows what is bothering Potter and who is behind it. I could see it in her eyes. Of course, Weasley would not notice that since he always thinks the best of her. Slytherin instincts are useful for some occasions after all...

Why hasn't she done anything about it? Her flowery speech of attempting to draw Potter out of his shell aside, she does not seem concerned whatsoever. This is strange.

"Weasley! Wait up!" Did those words just come out of his mouth? He really needed to consider gaining better control.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Such a question would usually be accompanied by flashing eyes, a red face, and a drawn wand. Not this time. It lacked its usual heat as well. 

"The same thing you want, I expect." _That_ got Weasley's attention. The thought of wanting the same thing that the evil Malfoy wanted... preposterous. He watched this line of reasoning go through the other boy's mind. To his surprise, Weasley smiled. And laughed. Oh, how he wished he could hex him for this. No one laughed at Draco Malfoy.

"What would that be, oh-great-and-knowing Draco?" _Huh? Where did FerretBoy's name come from? I don't think I've ever called him that..._

Nobility is more trouble than it is worth. "Weasley," Draco sighed, hating the words as they left his mouth, "we do not like each other. I doubt there would be any other time that we would willingly stay in one another's presence. But... Potter... is important. To both of us. Can we agree to that?"

Weasley-no, Ron, if he was going to become an ally, he owed him _some _courtesy-blinked, obviously surprised. "That... that is true, Malf-Draco. Harry is important to both of us."

"And, it is obvious he is not himself," Draco continued, grateful that the olive branch, thin and brittle as it was, had been accepted. 

"I'm glad someone else has noticed. Even if it is you," Ron snorted. "No one else seems to care that Harry is... he's no longer _Harry._"

Draco nodded. "As hard as it may be to believe, I do not hate him. Nor do I _completely_ despise you. I respect him as a valid Quidditch opponent as well as a peer in our wizardry. I do not wish to see that taken away."

Ron grinned, unable to help himself. "So, as long as Harry is still able to chase the snitch, he's of use to you? Where does that leave me?"

"As his loyal, bumbling sidekick of course. You're able to fill in both brawn and brutality. Unfortunately, I need both Crabbe and Goyle do to that for me," Draco retorted. _We're... teasing each other. Weasley and I are teasing each other and the world has not come to an end. Or has it? I am starting to believe that the universe will never be the same..._

Ron sobered, unable to forget Harry. "You've been watching him, I suppose?" At Draco's nod, he continued, "Have you any idea what might be causing this—breakdown?"

Draco carefully considered his next words. _Do not risk alienating him now. I need his help. Outright accusations without proof will do no good. _"It... almost appears to be mind control of some time. Not quite as extensive as say, the Imperius curse, but essentially as effective."

"What makes you say that?" Ron looked confused. _Wonderful. He's now aware of how I have been feeling for the past two weeks._

Draco slowly spoke, his theory making more sense the longer he thought on it, "There is a certain combination of spells and potions that could be used to create, among other things, irrational fear of a certain subject. The 'programmer' could then dictate what the person can or cannot think. Deviation from the programming would lead to immense psychological pain." Ron paled. "Brilliant, isn't it? It started innocuously, with food — yes, I watched him that closely, and no I do not care to explain why - things not many people would notice. But now, our friendly neighbourhood mindfucker has upped the ante, so to speak."

"By telling Harry to be afraid of — of me. I'm a threat to that person because I am — was - closest to Harry." Ron was no longer pale. Ron was _mad._

Draco swallowed. One part of him cheered that someone believed him, and another part, long disused thanks to the training he received at the hands and curses of his father, inwardly cried at the pain Harry — and now Ron, were suffering. _When did I start to care so much?_

Ron looked at Draco. "What do we do?"

Draco sighed. "We either can attempt to determine exactly what has happened to Harry, get Harry to completely break the conditioning, or find the culprit." In reality, what other choice was there?

"Draco," Ron said hesitantly, "thank you for confiding in me. I appreciate knowing that I am not completely mad."

Draco smiled slightly, knowing it must have cost a great deal of Ron's pride to say that to him. "You're welcome... Ron. And no, you are not completely mad. No more so than usual."

"Oh shut it, you." Ron gave him a half-hearted swat on the arm. A thought occurred to him. "Do you have any idea who could be doing this? The usual suspects are rotting in Azkaban."_ Thank heaven for small mercies._

Draco mentally groaned. _You had to ask that, didn't you?_

*******************************************************************

Harry had taken refuge in a corner of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. The ghost-girl was fond of him, and appreciated his visits - enough to keep her normal childish behaviour at a minimum, at any rate. She was currently hovering rather worriedly above a shivering, unresponsive Harry.

"Harry?"

Harry flinched a little, and looked up into the gently smiling face above him. "It's all right, Harry, come with me. He won't hassle you any more, not when you're with me. Come on," she beckoned for him to take her hand.

Harry opened his mouth to say that Ron hadn't bothered him, not really - and another violent shudder seized him cruelly. When it stopped, Hermione was holding his shoulders, brushing sweat-dampened hair from his forehead. 

"You see?" She cooed, voice overflowing with care. "You've gone and gotten yourself upset again. Now then, come with me, and stop thinking so much. Come on. I'll make it right." 

Dimly, not knowing what else to do, he took her hand and let her lead him out of the bathroom, under Myrtle's puzzled eye. 

*******************************************************************

**__**

SLAP.

"Stupid..."

**__**

SLAP.

"Disobedient..."

**__**

SLAP.

"Worthless..."

**__**

SLAP.

"Whore!" **_SLAP, SLAP, SLAP._** Each blow was punctuated by a single angry word. And while the hits were deliberately moderated so as not to hurt, or harm, the words were calculated to inflict the most pain possible. 

Harry lifted himself from the ground and rearranged himself to kneel at her feet, just in time to be backhanded to the ground again with a cry of "Slut!" Picking himself up once again, his shoulders shook with the effort it took not to sob. "I'm sorry!" He moaned. "So sorry, didn't mean it... no more penance..." Two empty vials lay nearby, the stoppered mouths now opened accusingly. 

Grabbing his chin and forcing it painfully upward, Hermione looked deeply into her Pet's eyes before a satisfied smile spread across her lips, a not-quite-sane look in her eyes. _Time to switch tactics._ "Wellll," she drawled, pretending to consider the matter, "it was he who touched you, wasn't it? Not you who touched him. You know I don't like it when you speak to him unnecessarily..." she let the pause hang significantly in the air before continuing. "...But I suppose I can eventually forgive you. This time," she added warningly. 

Mute with relief, Harry could only fall and kiss the hem of his Owner's robes. She was so good, so kind, so forgiving...

"But," and here she pulled him up, dragging him over to sit on the bed, "I think you need a little bit of extra... control. Since you're obviously incapable of controlling yourself, I'm simply going to have to do it for you." Going to her book bag, she flipped through the notes on numerous sheets of parchment, finding the right spell to use. It had taken three full nights of searching the Restricted Section to find it - but like the other spells and potion recipes before it, it would be worth it. 

Touching her wand to Harry's throat, she began muttering the incantation, slowly tracing along his skin as the spell wove its invisible magic. When she had circled his neck to her starting point, the path she had traced glowed briefly before disappearing into Harry's skin. She noted with satisfaction how Harry's body jerked slightly, eyes glazing over further. "Just a little reminder, Pet. If you ever forget again, this will help remind you of what you're doing wrong and why." She smiled. "Now, I think that it's time you showed me just who you belong to..."

With eager hands and mouth, Harry wasted no time in obeying, all pain and guilt gone. 

*******************************************************************

Draco swallowed hard. "Are you certain you want me to answer that?" _I am not afraid of Weasley, I am not afraid of Weasley._

Now Ron was even more confused than before. "I asked you, didn't I?" Suspicion grew in his mind. "I'm not going to like your theory, am I?"

Draco sighed. "I very much doubt you will. Perhaps it would be best for us to leave the hall, as there are now students coming this way who will, no doubt, be surprised at the sight of a Weasley and a Malfoy having a decent conversation."

Ron nodded. "Where to, then?"

Draco sighed. "My room, I suppose. I am Head Boy, so I have my own rooms apart from the rest of Slytherin, and no one short of Professor Snape would dare disturb me."

Ron followed Draco nervously, disliking his surroundings intensely. A thought occurred to him. "What if Professor Snape comes in?"

Draco snorted. "Unlikely on a night like this, and, if he were to come in... I could say that I was determined to have my wicked way with you, he would applaud a Slytherin corrupting a Gryffindor, offer advice on techniques, and leave."

Ron choked. "I hope he doesn't come in then... What did you mean by 'unlikely on a night like this?'"

Draco turned scarlet, leading Ron into his room, flopping down on one of the sofas. "Well... it is the full moon. As a potions master, he would want to observe the effects of the new Wolfsbane on Lupin."

Ron raised an eyebrow, not missing a beat. "So that's what they call it now." The sound of Draco sputtering was most satisfying. "Besides, Professor Black is always with Lupin during full moons..."

"Perhaps we should turn this conversation back to its original purpose."

"Good idea."

Silence ensued. Draco clearly did not want to state his suspicions outright. Ron sighed. "Draco, if you're not going to just tell me _who_ is doing this to Harry, you could at least explain _why_ you think this person is the one doing it."

Draco nodded eagerly. This was something he knew he could do. "The person I have in mind is not someone most people would suspect, as they have never given real reason for such suspicion. They are meticulous in their studies, are excellent with magic and potions, and would have almost unlimited access to the Restricted Section—which is where the books necessary for the potions and spells would be kept."

Ron nodded. "That makes sense. It explains at least why Madam Pince hasn't reported someone for 'spending undue time peering over _Master Manipulations of our Time_' or whatever."

Draco nodded, relieved that Ron agreed. At least, so far. "Now, let me ask you, Ron. Who do you know, who is close to Harry — because he wouldn't trust a stranger to be close enough to do this - who could be so jealous of you that they might do anything to ensure Harry's devotion to them? Who has the intelligence and the skill, as well as the trust of the faculty, to do that?"

He saw horror dawn in Ron's eyes. In his position, he would have felt the same horror. He could see years of shared adventures and dangers, exams and Quidditch games, years of simple friendship crumbling under the weight of the name.

"_Hermione?!"_

Draco sat silently, letting Ron battle his own emotions. He finally dared to rest a hand on his shoulder. "I don't have any real concrete evidence..."

"No." Ron's voice could have shattered diamonds. "No, it... it makes sense. You overheard her explanation for Harry's behaviour to me?" Draco nodded. "The Hermione that I knew would have told me everything instead of dismissing my concerns. This past year, she has seemed to resent time I spent alone with Harry... oh no..."

"What?" Draco felt cold.

  
"I—I confided in Hermione about... about some feelings I had for Harry. She…she told me nothing could come of them because she _knew_ Harry didn't feel the same way..."

"That Mudblood bitch."

Ron's head snapped up. "Don't insult the Muggle-borns. Dean Thomas isn't like that."

"Sorry." Wait a minute, he apologised? To Weasley? His feelings now mattered to him? When had things gotten so complicated?

"What do we do now?" Why was Ron asking all the intelligent questions this evening? It was rather annoying.

"What can we do? We have to obtain proof that Harry is under mind control, that Hermione is the one responsible, and, on the off-chance that we are mistaken, we have to obtain proof of the one who is."

"I bloody well know that!" Ron snapped, patience finally on edge. "How do we do that?"

Draco paced nervously. "The only way to conclusively prove it would be for someone - a teacher - to state that Dark Magic and potions are being used."

"You must be jok - all right, I can see that you're not joking."

"Indeed. If it makes you feel any better, I do not desire to die any more than you do. However, Lupin and Black are our DADA professors. Snape is our Potions Master. Whom else could we turn to?"

Ron sighed. "Okay. We better go now."

Draco blinked. "We? What's this 'we' business?"

Ron just Looked at him. "Right," Draco said hurriedly. "Before you ask, yes, I know where they are."

"Fine. Let's go find them."

*******************************************************************

**__**

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The steady sound of a wolf's tail hitting the floor as it waved its owner's approval provided a rhythmic background for what was otherwise a rather disorganised display. Both Severus and Sirius wanted to put on a show for their wolf, but neither of them could quite seem to agree on exactly whom was to be in charge, and who was to be the recipient of the attentions. Not that Remus minded - he found it incredibly amusing when his two mates wanted to show off at the same time. It also guaranteed a most delightful show-

**__**

BANG BANG BANG BANG!!

Sirius jerked his head up, robes distinctly askew, the red beginnings of a mark emerging on his neck. "The hell?" He asked somewhat incoherently.

**__**

BANG BANG BANG!!

Severus turned around, hair mussed, voice hoarse. "The door." After a moment's consideration, he groaned and detached himself from his enemy-turned-partner. "Little bastards..." he grumbled under his breath.

Remus whined, but accepted it as philosophically as he could. He knew, as did they all, that on the nights of the full moon they would only be interrupted in a case of reasonable need. 

Yanking the door open irritably, Snape snapped "Yes?" not bothering to mask his extreme annoyance, particularly when he saw the tell-tale Weasley hair outside. Wait a moment... Weasley hair - and Malfoy hair? 

Draco gulped. His Head of House was prickly under the best of circumstances - which these were not. "Sir, we apologise for disturbing you, but there is something we need to tell you. Suspicions of illegal activities and we would like yours and Professor Black's input."

Snape sighed irritably. "Very well. Come in."

"What is it, Ron?" Sirius' tone held none of its usual warm welcome for his godson's best friend - rather, it sounded childish and sulky. He blinked at seeing the white-blond head next to Ron's fiery hair. "What are you two doing here?"

"They claim suspicions of illegal activities, Black," Snape said dryly, though inwardly he was not feeling quite so detached. 

Sirius' head snapped up from glaring petulantly the sofa at the words, all thoughts of a night of fun gone. "What illegal activities?"

"And what suspicions, Mister Malfoy?" Severus asked, eyebrow raised. "Surely they must be compelling suspicions indeed for a Slytherin and a Gryffindor - indeed, a Malfoy and a Weasley - to come knocking at this door together at _this particular time?!_" Inwardly, he was quite worried. The history between these two students was a particularly volatile one; for them to voluntarily cooperate must mean something that they felt was serious. And young Malfoy knew enough about illegal activity to know if something truly was serious. 

"To answer your question, Professor, it involves Harry." _That_ got Black's attention.

"And to answer yours, Professor Snape, we are suspecting mind control." Draco's voice took on an ironic note. "I assume that is illegal enough to warrant attention?"

"Harry?" Sirius' voice was charged with panic. "Mind control? Ron, what's happened to him? Tell me!"

Remus had padded over quickly to the boys, eyes staring up at them intently. If Harry was really being hurt like that... Turning to Sirius, he placed a comforting paw on the man's thigh. 

__

The Golden Boy has been attacked through the intricate net Dumbledore placed around him? Snape cast his mind back, trying to think of Death Eaters who had escaped Azkaban the second time around who were powerful enough to possibly reach into Hogwarts. "Certainly it warrants attention, Mister Malfoy. Mind control is considered amongst the Darkest of the Dark Arts. May I ask what basis you have for suspecting that Mister Potter is under such control - not to mention if you have any particular suspects in mind?" 

Draco sighed. "This is going to sound preposterous at first, so please bear with us. We" he glanced at Ron, "both began noticing odd behaviour from Harry about two weeks ago."

Ron nodded. "Well, at first he was just being picky about eating certain foods, for example, no sugar, and then no meat, and so forth. If I asked him, he would either say he was not hungry for those foods, or he simply wouldn't answer."

Draco picked up, "And then, I noticed that he... just wasn't looking right. Very pale, very skittish, and seemingly not caring about things such as Quidditch, which we all know he loves, or about maintaining the illusion of our rivalry."

Ron nodded again. "And now, he gets very scared whenever he speaks to me, as though talking to me causes him some sort of great pain. We haven't been fighting or anything, and he now goes out of his way to avoid me!"

The adults - and wolf - traded significant glances with each other. Each of them had had enough experience with the Dark Arts to know that this didn't sound good at all, but a tale of picky eating and 'not looking right' proved nothing. "Yes, Ron, we understand that. Go on. Tell us everything you know," Sirius urged, fear for his precious godson gripping his chest like a fist of ice. _If it's true, this has been happening right under my nose, and I didn't notice a damned thing! Oh god, Harry... please be all right..._

"I was watching the Gryffindor table during dinner today," Draco said, picking up the story, and I noticed that when Harry turned to speak to Ron - the only time all evening that I saw him speak to him, period - Hermione Granger glared at him. I would call it a murderous glare, the kind you would give someone for... _disobeying_ certain rules."

"I hadn't noticed that - but I wasn't watching 'Mione," Ron said thoughtfully. "Anyway, Hermione seemed to just storm out of the Great Hall. A few minutes later, Harry got up and I got up and followed him and tried to get him to talk to me."

"I followed as well," Draco noted. 

"He wouldn't though. It was as if even speaking to me cost him a great deal of effort, and he was terrified, absolutely terrified of - I guess being caught speaking to me. Hermione came along, Harry bolted, and Hermione reprimanded me for 'destroying' her efforts to find out what was going on with Harry. But whenever something is going on with either of us," he said, "Hermione always comes to the other one, just to confirm her suspicions if nothing else. But this time - nothing. And she has been consistently jealous of any time I spent with Harry all this year."

Snape frowned thoughtfully. "Are you saying, Mister Weasley, that you believe your friend, Miss Granger, is the one responsible for deliberately using mind control magic on Mister Potter, if indeed any such magic is being used at all?" He mused it over. _Had it merely been Draco, I would have dismissed it as another attempt to get a 'mudblood' expelled... but if Mister Weasley believes so too, something must not be right with this. And if any student could do such a thing, Miss Granger certainly has the intelligence to do so without being suspected..._

Remus growled softly. He could smell the misery coming from the redhead. Ron believed what he and Malfoy were saying. He didn't want to have to believe it, but he did. Which probably meant that what they were saying was true. And he knew that Sirius could interpret his growl for what it was, and what it implied. 

"What I'm saying, sir, is that I - we - can't think of anyone else it could be. Hermione is always in the library doing research and stuff - and she has access to the Restricted Section. Harry wouldn't trust anyone other than her, or me, to be that close to him. Anyone else would have a much harder time of it."

"What I believe he means, sirs," Draco interjected, "is that something of this magnitude would take a great deal of work. She is at the top of both Charms and Potions, so she could learn the necessary components needed to do this."

"I know we don't have any definite proof," Ron said nervously. "But I do think we have reason to be worried."

Sighing, Snape steadied himself for the explosion that was sure to come after he finished speaking. "Very well. Thank you for expressing your concerns, gentlemen; you may now go."

Sirius exploded. "WHAT? Harry could be in real danger at this moment, by Hermione or whoever it is that's programming him, and you're just telling them to _go_?" 

Snape replied, voice laced with sarcasm, "Black, we can hardly go accusing Miss Granger of this without definitive proof. After all, some eyewitness accounts have been found to be less than trustworthy."

Sirius flushed at the not-so-subtle reminder of Pettigrew's betrayal. "All right, I see your point." He sighed, turning to Draco and Ron. "As Snape said, you may leave now. We'll decide what course of action will be taken next."

Remus whined, putting both paws on Sirius's legs. He nodded back at the wolf. "Keep an eye on things though, will you? And let us know of any developments?"

Ron nodded slowly. "Yeah. The more people watching, the better. But you _will_ do something about whatever's wrong with Harry, right? Even if we're wrong about what it is?"

"I assure you, Mister Weasley, that Mister Potter's condition will be taken care of, no matter the cause. In the meantime, _be discreet_. I cannot stress this enough. If Potter is indeed under mind control, the one responsible will be on their guard. A slip could be disastrous for Potter at this stage," Snape said sternly, the warning aimed at all three of the foolhardy Gryffindors currently in the room.

*******************************************************************

Six days later, Ron was at his wits end. Adhering to Professor Snape's warning left few avenues open for him to actively watch Harry.

"Harry, mate? Mind if I borrow your Invisibility Cloak tonight?" He struggled to keep his voice steady, mischievous. Normal. "I'd like to leave some surprises for the slimy git to find in the morning."

Harry visibly fought to look at Ron, his eyes watering with the effort it took not to display the pain the acknowledgment of the _vermin's_ presence caused him. "Er... sure, Ron. Let me get it for you." Looking wildly all around him, he breathed a sigh of relief. _She_ was not there to see his slip.

__

Deviant. Filthy. Unworthy. **_SLAP SLAP SLAP_**

Memories rang through his head as he rifled through his trunk. **_SLAP SLAP SLAP_**

Please let her not ask where the cloak is tonight. Please...

Bringing the Cloak back down, hidden underneath his robes, he found the common room still deserted except for Ron. Despite that, he slipped in close, creating a shield with their bodies, not wanting to risk the discovery of the Cloak if someone came in. "Here," he muttered, looking fixedly at the floor, pushing the Cloak quickly into Ron's arms. _He smells of chocolate - chocolate rots your teeth makes your breath foul but his breath doesn't smell bad, it smells so sweet -_ and made a hurried exit. 

Ron sighed. He tied the Invisibility Cloak around himself carefully, underneath his jumper so that it wouldn't be seen even if his robes slipped open, and left the common room.

*******************************************************************

Remus and Severus were in the middle of a debate regarding traditional Dark Arts potions and the possibilities of each while Sirius paced. "I hope Ron manages to get the Invisibility Cloak from Harry..."

"It would be a lot easier if the little brat did not have one of those infernal things in the first place," Severus muttered, but it was without heat. Disciplining Potter for the ownership of a Filch-banned item was hardly the point at this moment. It hadn't taken them more than a few hours each of observation, in meals and in class, to know that Ron and Draco were quite right about Harry's unusual behaviour, and that they had most probably guessed correctly about the cause. However, despite an abundance of odd body language on Granger's part, they had nothing else to tie her to the problem. Hence, the research on potions and the like. If they could discover what was being used on Harry, they had a larger chance of finding the culprit - especially if, as Severus suspected, the potion being used was a particularly obscure one, difficult for most students to find. 

The best way to gain anything concrete, however, was to catch the culprit directly in the act. And for that, they needed information from their other set of student eyes. 

*******************************************************************

Growling underneath his breath, Draco watched as Hermione - thinking she was unobserved - copied notes from a large, dusty tome in the Restricted Section. _Thank you, Father, for being thrown in Azkaban and leaving all your possessions to me._ The smooth folds of his own Invisibility Cloak wrapped around him, soothing him from making any drastic measures. Silk, smooth, cool, comforting. _The way Harry always felt to me...even if he never knew it._

No one would think twice of Hermione copying something out of a book. She was always doing something of the sort. Draco was close enough to see her own footnotes to the spellwork. _Pet still unbroken. This will work if nothing else will._

__

God, what does she think she is doing? Pet?? A person could never be a lapdog. Is that what she is trying to reduce Harry to? With a flick of his wand and a mouthed incantation, the notes and book title were copied on a parchment within Draco's robes.

__

Ron and I will never allow it. Draco smiled coldly as Hermione got up to leave. _I think it is time for a rendezvous with my favourite redhead, ex-convict, werewolf, and former spy. No doubt we have many interesting things to share._

*******************************************************************

Malfoy," Ron nodded curtly, trying to achieve past levels of disgust in his voice.

"Weasley." Equally curt and cold.

"Carrying a stash of dungbombs under your robes?" Ron noticed how tightly Draco was holding onto one of his sides.

A sly smile quirked on Draco's face. "Why, yes, Weasley. Up to planting some of them with me? Or is that too much for you?"

Ron struggled to keep from letting out a cheer. "I know just the place." They headed off in the direction of Lupin's office.

When they arrived, Lupin opened the door almost before they'd finished knocking. "Come in boys, quickly, don't dawdle," Lupin said as he held his door open, tone deceptively light for the sake of any possible passers-by. Snape and Sirius were already there, waiting silently. One was waiting quietly, the other wearing worried holes in the carpet. 

"Do you have them?" Remus asked

Silently, the boys pulled the identical silvery Cloaks from underneath their robes. Draco also produced a piece of parchment. When Severus raised a quizzical eyebrow, he explained briefly, "A replica of a sheet of parchment Granger had written on - taking notes from Restricted Section books."

Severus took the parchment. As his eyes ran down the page, taking in the various spells, potions and their implications, he stiffened and swore under his breath, before handing the parchment to Remus. "I believe we may have positively identified the culprit," he noted grimly.

"What should we do next?" Ron had mixed feelings about the question. He wanted to help Harry, he wanted to kill Hermione, but she had been a friend and he did not fancy a jaunt in Azkaban. 

Snape scowled. "Much as I loathe to say it, it may be best if you accompany us. If nothing else, as eyewitnesses to the fact."

Remus nodded. "Well then, gentlemen... I believe we are all aware of the plan. Shall we go?"

*******************************************************************

To anyone passing through the corridors, it would have seemed normal enough. After all, Professors Lupin and Black were known to be friends from their own schooldays, and seeing them walking together, conferring in low voices, was hardly unknown. Nor was it unknown for them to be seen talking to Harry - or in this case, one of his friends. However, this time they had an invisible Potions Master trailing behind them, at a carefully calculated distance, not to mention an invisible student.

Draco whispered hoarsely to Snape, "How exactly are we going to locate Granger and Harry? Ron and I haven't been able to see where they sneak off to."

Unseen, Snape smiled thinly. "That was taken care of earlier this afternoon, Mr. Malfoy." He spoke quietly, a voice that could not have been heard five inches from their location. "Black took the liberty of summoning an... aid to our excursion. We need only follow them."

Finally, the huddled group came to a sudden stop in a corridor that neither Draco nor Ron had ever been in, and Remus gestured to an old wooden door up ahead. "In here," he said quietly, before taking out his wand and muttering the standard unlocking charm. Nothing happened, and he raised an eyebrow sardonically. "Looks like she did this properly," he muttered, as he tried to identify and undo the charm on the door as unobtrusively as possible. It would be tricky enough sneaking people in, invisible or no, without making undue noise. Finally, he managed it, and after a hasty Oiling Charm had been cast on the door's hinges, it opened smoothly, barely a foot ajar, before silently closing again.

Sirius sighed. "Now we wait until they give the signal..."

Ron nodded without a word, and the three of them waited in tense silence.

******************************************************************* 

The sound of sobbing intermixed with slapping greeted Draco and Snape. Draco barely restrained a gasp at the sight of Harry and what Hermione was doing to him.

"Idiot!" **_Slap!_** "Why did you give him the Cloak?" **_Slap!_** "You know he still lusts after you, desires you for his sick purposes. Why give him means with which to find you?" Another hard slap across the face and Harry collapsed to the ground, sobbing yet valiantly trying to crawl his way back up to Hermione's feet.

"S-sorry," Harry managed to mumble, the pain coursing through his brain at his Owner's displeasure far outweighing the red marks blooming on his cheeks, or the split lip that slowly oozed dark blood. He was only partly dressed, and marks covered his chest, back and arms. His bare feet were red with cold. 

Hermione looked at him in utter disgust. "You never learn, do you? Never! How many times must I tell you that you belong to _me_. Me!" She grabbed his shoulders and shook him hard. "Me, understand?" Just as abruptly, she let him go, leaving the dark-haired boy to land on the floor, hitting his head on the cold stones with a painful-sounding _crack_. "Hmph. It would serve you right if I just gave up on you now. I shouldn't have to deal with such disobedience."

Green eyes widened. "No!" Coughing, he pulled himself to a kneeling position once again. "Don't leave me alone... not alone... please... anything but that..."

With an angry snort, she spun around to snatch something from her cloak. A phial, filled with some ominous-looking liquid. The invisible watchers tensed. "You're sorry? Take your penance, then!" She shoved it under his nose. "I won't have that gutter trash _faggot_ spoiling everything I've worked for... 

__

If I take my penance, I will be forgiven. And yet, somehow, Harry hesitated. _What am I doing? Why am I disobeying again? But-_

With a furious growl that sounded more beastly than human, Hermione grabbed Harry roughly by the throat, ignoring his hands as they scrabbled ineffectually against her grip, vial poised to force the potion into his mouth.

An eerie, high pitched whining filled the corridor. Nothing out of place in Hogwarts, which regularly spouted its own brand of strange noises and voices. However, at this place and time, its clarity could not be mistaken to those who were listening for it.

"There's the signal. NOW!" Sirius, Remus, and Ron burst into the room, wands drawn, in time to see Hermione attempting to force a substance down Harry's throat.

"_ACCIO _VIAL!" Never before had a Summoning charm worked so well for Ron, or so satisfyingly.

"RON! WHAT DO You... Professor Black. Professor Lupin." She backed away, clearly taken off guard. "This... I can explain." 

"Indeed? Then go ahead, I assure you that I'd like to hear it." Lupin's voice was ominous, cold anger radiating from him in waves as he saw Harry's pitiable state. Sirius had already rushed to aid his godson, who was still struggling to get his breath back. And Ron was standing next to him, literally trembling with barely-contained anger. He placed a calming hand on the youngster's shoulder. 

"Harry and I- we were just having some fun, Professor," she said, rapidly thinking up an escape route. "Harry has a taste for the sexual practices commonly known as BDSM, and so I agreed to act in this way tonight in order to increase his satisfaction. I-"

"I would hardly say that, Miss Granger," A silky smooth voice said. Draco and Snape took off their cloaks, both relishing in Hermione's gasp of dismay. 

"I... I don't know what you mean, Professor."

"Perhaps this might help your memory?" Draco sneered, flicking his wand. An image of what he and Snape saw Hermione doing to Harry left no doubt - even though doubt no longer existed - that what had been occurring was anything but consensual.

Hermione shrieked, then yanked at Harry's shoulder. "Damn you, are you just going to sit there whimpering? These perverts are trying to take you away from me! Get up and do something, idiot!" 

"Leave him alone, haven't you done eno- uff!" Sirius' angry shout was abruptly cut off as Harry surged to his feet, kicking Sirius away and lunging at Snape. With a yell, Ron dove forward and grabbed Harry's arm, yanking him away, while Draco caught hold of Harry's other arm. Whirling with a cry, the dark-haired boy tried to aim a punch, but found that the two other boys were holding him too securely for him to strike. He struggled to free himself, panic taking over, and the adults hurried forward to assist in restraining him gently. 

All except Professor Snape, who was aiming his wand directly at Hermione's forehead, keeping her from reaching for her own wand. "I think a visit to the Headmaster is applicable here, don't you, Miss Granger?"

"Indeed, Professor Snape, now would be a good time to speak to me." Snape inwardly rolled his eyes as Headmaster Dumbledore made his way into the room. _How he manages to do this I will never learn._

Dumbledore's blue eyes had none of their usual warmth or twinkle. Once more, Ron was reminded of why he was the one wizard You-Know - Voldemort - had feared. He made a fervent promise to himself that he would never do something to warrant having that glare on himself.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, moving his hands in a complex manner, "forget the lies. Forget the pain. Break the bonds and return to yourself."

Harry shuddered, slumping between Ron and Draco. "What..." he shook himself, sounding bewildered and hurt. He looked first at Ron, then at Draco, seeing the concern on their faces. Then he saw Hermione. 

"YOU! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!" He got up to lunge at her, but was held back by the two other boys.

"Harry!" Sirius ran to his godson's side, looking at him anxiously. "Harry! Are you all right? Talk to me!"

"Sirius?" Harry's attention was diverted momentarily, and he relaxed a little. "I... yeah, I'm okay, I guess. I mean, I am now. Thanks." Stormy green eyes landed on Hermione, and after a moment of profoundly painful silence, Harry found he could only force a whisper past the lump in his throat. "You told me it was just a potion you were using to get extra credit in Potions, that the only thing it would do would be to temporarily fix my eyesight. I trusted you not to be lying to me about it. How could you do this to me? I _trusted_ you!"

"You... you belong to me. To ME! Not to them! Only I..." she trailed off into silence.

"Gentlemen, shall we leave this place? Harry has been through a terrible ordeal. Ron, Draco, please escort him to Madame Pomfrey and have her document all physical evidence for the Ministry, and then tell her to treat him. I would like both of you to remain with him for now." That taken care of, Dumbledore turned his attention to Hermione. "As for you, Miss Granger, what will happen to you remains to be seen. I believe a psychological examination by the mediwizards at St. Mungo's is in order."

Ron and Draco stood on either side of Harry, neither knowing what to say to him as they made their way to the Hospital Wing.

"You don't have to stay," Harry muttered, "Really. I mean, it's late and everything..." He blushed furiously as he realised what they had seen, and that was only a fraction of it all... "You've both already done more than enough - I appreciate it, really..."

"We're not going anywhere," Draco replied, voice calm but the set of his face brooked no argument. 

"It doesn't matter what Dumbledore said-"

"To hell with what Dumbledore said, Harry! We're staying with you because we care about you, damn it!" Ron burst out. "I've been worried out of my mind about you for these past weeks, and so has Draco..."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Draco?" he asked mildly.

Draco looked uncomfortable. "Let's just say that we developed something of a working bond while we were trying to figure out what was wrong and how to help you. We're not exactly enemies any more." Harry had no more time to puzzle over that as they arrived at the Hospital Wing, and he was whisked into the care of Madam Pomfrey.

Draco and Ron sat in the outer room of the Hospital Wing, per Dumbledore's orders. Madam Pomfrey was not happy to have them there, but they refused to move and she gave up in favour of documenting and treating Harry's injuries.

"Draco?"

"What is it, Weasley?" Inexplicably, it hurt to say that. 

It hurt to hear that coming from the other boy. "So, things are supposed to go back the way they were before?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I believe that was the point of resolving this entire mess."

"Do you have to be so bloody oblivious all the time?" Ron asked, exasperated. "The point of resolving 'this mess' was so we could help Harry."

"Right. And we _have_ done that."

"In the process, we worked well together, and managed not to kill one another."

"Obviously."

"Does this mean we must go back to being enemies? I find I rather like not having to expect an insult or a hex every time I come into contact with you."

Draco sighed. "Now it's you who's being oblivious."

"What do you mean?" Ron turned to face the other boy.

"You... and Harry... I don't wish to interfere with the bond you two still have. I would only be in the way."

Ron stared at Draco for a minute, jaw dropped. "You..." he finally sputtered. "You're in love with him, too!"

"I take back what I said before. You aren't oblivious, you're as thick as a flobberworm," Draco muttered, wiping non-existent dirt off his robes.

Ron wasn't deterred. "Yeah, right. I saw your face. I know what that look means." After a pause, he added, "it's the one I see in the mirror every time I think about Harry myself." 

Draco snorted. "Not that it matters. Even if he's not totally messed up about this sort of thing for life, he won't exactly come to me for comfort or help in rebuilding his world. You better make him happy, Weasley, or I'll make sure that you regret it." 

"_Both_ of you seem to be as thick as flobberworms." At the sound of Harry's voice, Ron and Draco both whipped their heads around.

Harry grinned, unable to help himself. The situation was ludicrous. Barely an hour after finally being freed from weeks of mental control and torture, he overheard his best friend and best enemy both declaring their love for him. "I must say that you both look quite fetching with that Gryffindor shade of red in your cheeks."

Draco - though he would vehemently deny it later - made a sound that could only be a squeak. Ron stuttered out, "You... heard us, Harry?" 

Harry raised his eyebrows. "It was a bit hard not to. You didn't exactly keep your voices down."

__

I am dead. I don't even get through the NIGHT after he'd cured to blurt it out practically in front of him. It must look like I'm trying to take advantage of him just like Hermione did, oh bloody hell, Sirius will kill me for sure, Ron thought wildly. Next to him, Draco was having similar thoughts, and mentally composing his rather extensive will.

"Listen, you two. I'm flattered, I really am. I like you both - yes, you too, Draco - and I have done for a long time now. It's just..." He shivered. "I really don't think... I mean, I can't... I'm not ready. I can't cope with anything like that right now." He gazed at them, hoping that they'd understand. "I mean, I'm not saying no. I'm just saying not _now_. Is... that okay?"

Ron couldn't keep the relief from his voice. "That's fine Harry... that's, that's great." He glanced at Draco. "I think we both know that... you're worth the wait."

Draco raised his head, smiling slightly. "Yes... you are worth the wait, Harry. We'll be fine."

Harry yawned. "Now that that is somewhat settled, I think we'd all better get to bed before Madam Pomfrey kills us." With nods of agreement, the three boys took beds in the Wing. Neither Ron nor Draco noticed how they all managed to be turned towards one another and still be facing Harry. _Madam Pomfrey must be more observant than we normally realize._ Looking around at the two who had come together to save him, he smiled sleepily. _We will be all right._


End file.
